Bad Apple
by pokemoncha
Summary: You are now the sprite boy, whose name happens to be DAVE STRIDER. Or, at least, that's what your name used to be, as you are now referred to as DAVESPRITE Not that it really matters anymore, as you've found that it's better for everyone if you just get your feathery ass out of their sight. WARNING:depression, suicide ideation/reference, ship if u squint


_Even in the midst of flowing time, I feel languid, look, spinning around and around._

_I can't even see the heart that's leaving me, yes, I don't know_

**== Be the sprite boy.**

You are now the sprite boy, whose name happens to be DAVE STRIDER. Or, at least, that's what your name used to be, as you are now referred to as DAVESPRITE.

… Not that it really matters anymore, as you've found that it's better for everyone if you just get your feathery ass out of their sight. They don't like you, they don't really care about you, so you see no point in staying around. You've done your part with travelling back in time and preventing a doomed timeline, so you might as well leave them alone.

It doesn't bother you one bit, nope. Not at all.

(it breaks your heart, but you won't admit that to yourself)

_I can't even get myself to move, I continue to be washed down the cracks of time._

_I don't know anything about what's around me, I'm just me and no more._

You usually just fly around a bit, just going wherever you feel like going. Not that you ever really pay attention where you're going, It's pointless, anyways. You know everything about all these places. Comes with being a sprite. So you just keep going and going and going until you can't even move a muscle anymore, and just crash right wherever you had been passing by. You might as well have fallen into the lava of LOHAC, and you probably wouldn't even know it.

It doesn't matter. You can't die.

(you sometimes wish time would just take you, only to realize that's all that's been happening since you started playing this goddamn game.)

_Am I dreaming? Am I seeing nothing? My words are useless even if I speak._

_I'm just tired of being sad, I should go on without feeling anything._

occasionally, when you do fall asleep from exhaustion, you come across dream bubbles(or is that just your imagination? Do you even see anything at all? You don't know.) Most of the time, it's just one or another alternate version of yourself. You don't say a thing to them. It's not like they would listen, anyways. The best you've got out of one of them was a fist bump.(but that was when you were still more talkative and tried to interact with people. Hah, what a laugh.).

from time to time, it's one of your (old) friends. You don't talk to them either. (sometimes you wonder when you've stopped talking. You guess you did when you realized nobody listened.) They wouldn't care about it.

You're just a sprite, after all.

(it all hurts so much, you don't want to feel anymore)

_Does a future exist in wasted time? Do I exist in a place like this?_

_If I want to talk about me, if I make myself heard, I'll say I'm "Bad Apple"_

You like to think about how it would've been, had you not been a doomed timeline. How great would it be, not being loathed by the people you saved from a certain doom. The satisfaction it would bring…

But it's no use, isn't it? You all had been destined for doom the moment you were made into being. Your whole lives- just one big buildup towards this bullshit.

It's just such a waste of time. This place- _everything_ around you. So completely and utterly pointless. You feel so-so-

You don't know.

You're numb.

You don't feel anything.

You don't care anymore.

You can't care anymore.

"… Davesprite? Is that you, dude?"

Huh. A voice. It sounds far away. You wonder if it's even here at all. It wouldn't be a surprise if it was just your imagination messing with your barely working mind.

"Holy shit Davesprite! What the fuck?!"

Maybe it's not your imagination.

Hah, wistful thinking. Someone voicing their concern over you? What a joke.

It's inconsequent. You're an awful creature. You're not even human. You are tired, so tired of everything.

You want to die.

Why can't you die?

"Davesprite! Come on bro! Ah, shit."

Someone's grabbed you and is now shaking you (your hallucinations have become pretty goddamn vivid, haven't they?), but who cares.

You're exhausted.

You feel yourself losing consciousness.

You've slipped into a dreamless sleep before you know it.

_If I move, if I move, I'll destroy everything, I'll destroy everything._

_If I grieve, if I grieve, can my heart turn white?_

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you feel awful, and that you're aching all over. Holy shit. You really went overboard with ignoring your body this time, didn't you?

Oh well. It's not like you can die of exhaustion. Or at all, really.

A dry chuckle makes its way past your throat. What you would give for eternal rest.

"So you've woken up, huh?"

Oh.

Someone's with you.

You lift your head just a tad bit, and open your eyes, just to see who it-

Ah.

Him.

Your not-doomed-but-still-doomed self. The alpha version of you. The non-sprite. The real Dave dot tm.

"Sup," he says.

You don't answer. You merely blink at him, keeping your pokerface on as you sigh, and look away. You don't want him to be here. He shouldn't even be here. He doesn't care about you, that's for sure, so…

"What do you want?" you finally reply to him, surprised-but-not-really at how scratchy your voice sounds after going so long without using it.

You're sure he's rolling his eyes behind his shades as he answers: "Jegus, good morning to you too, princess. So much for being thankful that I, oh, I don't know, kinda saved your feathery ass?"

You snort at him, sitting up, your muscles complaining. "You shouldn't have. I would've been fine."

"You were about to fucking kick the bucket bro."

"Your point being?"

"Davesprite."

"Dave."

Silence. He's looking at you, his face somewhat twisted in frustration at the way you're acting. He shouldn't be surprised. He's you, after all.

(Except he's not, hasn't been for a while, and you both know it.)

"Look," you grunt. "It doesn't matter. I'm just a sprite, ok? I wouldn't have died from that. You shouldn't have helped me. I would've eventually gotten up by myself if you'd have let me be. I know you gotta have more important things going on than looking after a secondary version of yourself."

"Davesprite-"

"No, shut up," you hiss at him. "You're wasting your goddamn time. Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone. I don't fucking care, and I know you don't either. I'm not- I'm not-" your shoulders sag. "…real," you mutter. "I'm just a game fragment. I don't even know why the hell you're here, or what you want, so just… fuck off," you finish with a sigh, not used to talking this much anymore.

He's silent from your little rant, but he doesn't go away like you had expected he would. He's just… staring at you, his face not showing any emotions whatsoever. You stare right back at him.

When he still doesn't show any signs of going away, you let out a frustrated caw and, despite your protesting body, attempt to move yourself.

Attempt being the keyword here, because all of the sudden he's grabbing your tail, preventing you from getting away.

You frown. "Dude."

"Yeah?"

"Let go."

"Don't feel like it," he says, pulling you towards him.

You stifle a surprised peep when he does that, puffing your neck feathers up and trying to pull your tail back. He doesn't let up, though, and he doesn't have to put much effort into overpowering your significantly weakened body. You growl, angry he's not listening to you.

"What do you even want from me?!" you snap at him. "I've already saved your sorry ass from a doomed timeline, gave up my own goddamn _body_ in trade for this abomination of a human and crow sprite body, endured hoping to see my friends again, only to have those hopes crushed and having them hate me for being a copy, for not being YOU!" you yell at him aggressively, only to deflate, slumping down in defeat. "What more do you want from me?" you mumble. You feel something wet slide down your cheeks. You didn't realized you had started crying. Great, now he's going to think you're an overly emotional pansy. Why doesn't he just let you be? He's just sitting there staring at you and-

And then suddenly he's hugging you. Gently scratching your head and stroking your back in a comforting manner.

Your eyes widen.

"I'm sorry." he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

You don't understand.

"Why?" you force out.

He hugs you closer.

"I care."

You choke back a sob.

He nuzzles you neck feathers.

"Let go."

And you do. You let out every pent up emotion , you're sobbing, crying, screaming, getting yellow snot all over his shirt, clinging to him, afraid he'll go away if you don't.

Even after you're done, he doesn't. He just keeps petting your wings and back, whispering silent nothings in your ear.

and you think that maybe

just maybe

your shattered heart can start to heal

not by a lot

not anytime soon

even if he leaves you be after this

you guess you can allow yourself to give in to the darkness and loneliness again

but for now

for now

you just enjoy his presence

allow red feelings to flow through your body

and make it seem like everything is ok

_I still don't know about you, about myself, about everything._

_If I open my heavy eyelids, if I break everything, then turn black!_


End file.
